


i can't understand why (life goes on the way it does)

by SafelyCapricious



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-03-29 02:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3878665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At ten Felicity was taken with the idea that the name that curled across her wrist actually belonged to the Oliver Queen – though her nana had scoffed at the idea. Her mother, on the other hand, was excited along with her at the possibility.</p>
<p>An alternative telling of Felicity and Oliver in a world with soulmate name tattoos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. somewhere over the rainbow; way up high

**Author's Note:**

> I apparently have a thing for soulmate fics, I'm sorry (not really). 
> 
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own! Please feel free to let me know if you spot any!

At ten Felicity was taken with the idea that the name that curled across her wrist actually belonged to _the_ Oliver Queen – though her nana had scoffed at the idea. Her mother, on the other hand, was excited along with her at the possibility.

By fourteen she’d seen far too many news stories of him being drunken and disorderly on television to even want it to be true. She comforted herself with looking up statistics online. According to howmanyofme.com there were at least four Oliver Queen’s in the United States – which wasn’t even taking into account the potential Oliver Queen’s overseas, or even in Canada! Her mother was still excited by the possibility of her daughter’s soulmate being a billionaire.

 (Of course, her mother had never met her own soulmate – her mark faded into scar tissue before she’d turned twenty – so really she was just excited that her daughter had a mark and still had a chance at a happy ending. Like her father who had left when Felicity was three because he’d found his soulmate had had a chance at a happy ending.)

By eighteen she’d taken to wearing a black sweatband around her wrist at all times so she didn’t have to deal with the curiosity and the questions. It had been useless in her hometown, everyone knew everyone’s names already, but now she was away at college and she could keep it a secret.

She still didn’t believe that the universe would settle her with  _the_ Oliver Queen.

Unfortunately, the one thing that Oliver Queen did seem to be able to keep covered was his wrist. There were numerous pictures of his entire naked body – including a few videos that only weren’t sex tapes due to the lack of actual penetrative sex – but he kept the sleek gold cover on his wrist at all times.

It was considered news whenever he changed models – and he’d just been seen with a brand new platinum version when he’d boarded the Queen’s Gambit.

Felicity was just shy of her nineteenth birthday when Oliver Queen was declared dead.

The name on her wrist was as brilliant as always – and although she was sorry for the loss to his family (the images of a twelve year old dark haired girl sobbing into her mother’s pressed pink designer suit where everywhere and heartbreaking) she couldn’t help but be relieved. She was right and he had never been her soul mate.

Felicity would have never gone to work for Queen Consolidated if she’d known Oliver was going to turn up alive. It was true that they’d offered her over twice what Lex Corp had and half again as much as Wayne Enterprises – but if she’d known that he would show up again she would’ve braved Gotham, her least favorite city in the world, and washed her hands of the Queens.

But she hadn’t.

And now Oliver Queen was alive.

She only seriously considered leaving for the five hours immediately following the news broadcast – Oliver looking disheveled coming off of a boat, some scrap of green fabric wrapped securely around his wrist.

Her mom called her – excited at the prospect that her soulmate could still be a billionaire. She’d managed to talk her mom down, convince her that Oliver Queen was not an uncommon name and she was still sure he wasn’t hers, and in the process she re-convinced herself of that truth.

She was on edge the next day, however, and remained that way for a week. By the middle of the second week of Oliver Queen’s miraculous rescue she’d managed to block it out and was back to happily drudging away at work.

She has one week of peace before her life got thrown into chaos.

She wasn’t sure if there was an  _appropriate_ reaction to being cornered by a vigilante in leather in her own little office, but she was pretty sure accidentally throwing a coffee mug at his head wasn’t it.

The fact that he’d leaned out of the way casually and hadn’t done more than stare at the broken mug for a moment before turning back to her should not have been at all attractive. It was anyways.

She gaped and he tilted his head, hood hiding his identity far better than it had any right to. She could barely find a sweatshirt with a hood that could fit over her ponytail, let alone completely obscure her features, this was ridiculous.

He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, and, well, if there was one thing Felicity Smoak was good at it was filling silence. “Um, please don’t kill me? Not that I think I’m high on your list – I mean, not that you have a list but you seem to be going after the wealthy? And I do have a job – like, I’m not suffering and I can pay my bills obviously, but I’m kind of bad about investing and so it mostly goes into – you don’t care about this at all. Um, hi, can I help you? Would you like some coffee?”

They both glanced at the broken mug.

She could feel a blush heating her cheeks and she forced herself to count to three before she spoke again. “Sorry, I would say I’m not normally this way but I feel like lying to you is a bad idea and – anyways! Can I help you with something? Or just, like, pretend I never saw you? I can  _totally_ do that.”

It took her a moment and seeing his shoulders shake to realize that the harsh rasping noise was laughter run through some sort of voice modulator. She blinked and gnawed on her lip for a moment before he finally spoke. His voice was artificially deep – well, she assumed based on the metallic quality of the sound – and terrifying as he said, “I need you to do me a favor,” and pulled a beat up laptop from a green bag she hadn’t even seen at his side.

The laptop had multiple bullet holes and that was what made her take the two steps forward to take it from his hand. She cradled it to her chest and frowned. “Oh you poor baby, what did the mean vigilante do to you?” She had it halfway hooked up before she hesitated and dropped her hands away from the wires and sat back in her chair. Her hands were shaking so she folded them in her lap and tilted her chin up. He hadn’t moved from the doorway, though he inclined his head waiting for her. “Why should I help you?”

His teeth flashed bright white behind the shadow of the hood and a spike of not fear shot down her spine. “I’m going after the guilty. This computer will hopefully let me stop a sniper.”

She squeezed her hands together hard enough to make her arms ache for in instant before asking in a small voice, “What if I say no? What will you do?”

He took a step forward and she jerked back – he paused with both hands outstretched, his voice was still frighteningly deep when he spoke, but it seemed like he was trying to keep it gentle, “I won’t hurt you, Felicity. I’ll just take the computer and see if I can find someone else to help.”

She let out a deep breath and stared at him. He didn’t move, hands still raised. The thought that if he wasn’t wearing long sleeves and gloves she’d be able to perfectly see his soulmate’s name struck her. Even vigilantes had to have soulmates, right? She took another deep breath before turning back to her computers and finishing the hook up.

“I’m going to help you this time. But this doesn’t mean you’re free to just waltz in here and get my help any time you need, okay? I do not agree that you have the right to punish people but…a sniper sounds bad.” Within moments she was into the not completely destroyed machine and waved the vigilante forward. Her heart gave a painful lurch when she realized that the schematics meant the sniper would likely be targeting the auction – the auction that Oliver Queen might well attend. He wasn’t her soulmate. He  _wasn’t_ . There was no way he was. She had to remember that.

She looked over her shoulder when she’d finished her explanation, only to find him gone. She blinked, let out a shaky breath, and hacked the video feed to make sure no one would see her helping the vigilante. She was going to drink an entire bottle of wine tonight. She deserved it.

The following Monday when Mr. Steele summoned her to her office she was certain that she’d somehow failed to delete the video and that there were going to be police officers waiting for her.

There weren’t, and the relief of that kept her from questioning anything too much when he explained the situation about financials and she agreed to help.

She was able to get him his results the same day, which was a huge weight off.

She was summoned upstairs again on that Friday and this time she didn’t panic at all, certain he was just going to ask for another similar favor.

She probably should have panicked.

Moira Queen was waiting for her. She was frowning down at the crystal timepiece on her gold wrist cover and Felicity was sure she was getting fired. She let herself hope, for only a moment, that Mrs. Queen was simply waiting for Mr. Steele, but as soon as the elevator closed behind her, Moira was looking up, smiling a well-practiced smile and walking forward, hand extended. “Miss Smoak?”

Oh yeah, she was getting fired. She tried to smile, though it felt more like a grimace, and she accepted the older woman’s firm handshake. She was actually a little impressed – she would’ve assumed someone like Mrs. Queen would’ve gone for the soft and delicate shake, but instead it had been just the right amount of firm. “Wow, nice handshake.” And she’d said that out loud. At least she hadn’t mentioned her dead husband or – “Congratulations on your son’s return. You must be so happy. I mean, I’m sorry your husband didn’t come back too but at least you got – I’m so sorry. I’m going to shut up now.”

Mrs. Queen just kept watching her with this neutral half smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Felicity was proud of herself for not begging for her job. She was already mentally reviewing how many updates she’d have to do on her CV before submitting it – hopefully Wayne Enterprises was still interested. “Don’t worry dear, we can have you attend classes for that,” was what the older woman eventually said.

Felicity blinked and said, “Wait, what?” before there was a surprisingly strong grip on her elbow and Mrs. Queen was leading her back to the elevator.

“Lets get lunch and discuss my son, your soulmate, shall we?” Moira Queen’s voice was perfectly level and calm.

Felicity tripped on air.


	2. there's a land that I heard of; once in a lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity survives lunch with Moira, somehow, and meets Oliver.

Four hours later had Felicity standing at foyer of the Queen Mansion doing her best not to hyperventilate. Maybe foyer was the wrong word. Entrance hall? Huge honking room? Intimidation place? 

She raised her hand to her mouth but managed to remember herself and drop it before she could do something like chew on her fingernails. She could just imagine what Mrs. Quee—Moira would say if she saw that.

She was going to have to remember that the quite frankly terrifying woman had commanded her to call her Moira. And it was definitely a command and not a suggestion. 

She wanted more than anything to just slip out the door and leave – even if she had to walk all the way down the impressive driveway and climb the fence to get out. Unfortunately she was convinced that Moira would send someone to collect her. The woman had ushered her into the mansion with an arm linked through hers and then had abandoned her with instructions to “Stay right there, Felicity.” And so Felicity would stay right there. 

Also she was quickly becoming convinced that if the woman _wasn’t_ involved with the mob or some sort of organized crime than she might have missed her true calling. She could make pleasantries sound threatening. 

Lunch had taken place at a elite little bistro that was so fancy they didn’t list any prices. Felicity had previously been convinced that those places didn’t actually exist – that it was just a convenient way for media to indicate that people were ridiculously wealthy without rubbing the audiences nose in it. But nope, they existed and Felicity Meghan Smoak had now eaten at one.

She’d also almost died at one. 

The menu had been entirely in Italian. She’d only taken Latin and that wasn’t really helping her, even if it was supposedly the root of the other language. So she’d, in an effort not to appear like a complete rube, asked the waiter what the special was and then had just said she’d have that. 

Moira had clicked her tongue and said, “No, she won’t,” rattled off something in Italian instead, and then once the waiter had left had leaned forward and said, like it was totally reasonable for her to know, “That dish had nuts as an essential element and you are terribly allergic.” 

So now Felicity had the dubious pleasure of knowing that when Moira Queen wanted to take her out she was probably going to die in anaphylactic shock. That was lovely to know.

The only genuinely pleasant surprise was discovering that it was, actually, possible for her to get so frightened that she didn’t babble. Apparently it required more fear than the kind you got from a mugger – who had definitely learned more about her television watching habits than he cared about before taking her wallet – like the kind of fear that the Queen monarch instill. 

It didn’t help that the entire time Moira was talking pleasantly about how she’d originally intended to let Oliver come to Felicity himself, but that he was different after the island and she was worried about him – and obviously the solution to being shipwrecked on an island for five years with no other survivors and suffering from serious PTSD from it was to jump into a relationship with ones soulmate. Obviously. 

_That_ Felicity had actually uttered aloud. 

Moira had stared her down for a long moment before tossing her hair and giving what had to be a practiced laugh but sounded ludicrously genuine before telling Felicity that she was exactly what Oliver needed. 

It was hard not to be a little flattered by that – at least, until she remembered what Oliver was like. The media had always been happy to follow him around twenty-four/seven and so, unfortunately, Felicity knew far more than she wanted to about him. And she could not imagine party-boy Oliver Queen to be happy to be chained down to his soulmate in anyway shape or form. 

Unfortunately Moira clearly didn’t agree. 

Which was why Felicity was now standing in the ballroom that someone had mistakenly put in the location of an entrance hall of the Queen Mansion, waiting for Moira to come back so she could get to meet Oliver since, for some reason, Moira had insisted he would absolutely be around. 

The door that Moira had disappeared behind opened and Felicity straightened her back, still self conscious about the perfectly serviceable blouse and skirt she was wearing – at least she wasn’t wearing her panda flats, small mercies. 

Before anyone came out of the door, however, there was a clatter of footsteps on the stairs and a very male voice calling, “Mom?”

Felicity actually took a step back towards the door before Oliver Queen rounded the end of the stairs and stopped abruptly, staring at her. 

As the silence stretched for a long moment she could feel herself want to fill it, and so she bit her lip hard enough to sting and curled her hands into fists. She was not doing this. She was not. 

Eventually he cocked his head a bit to the side and arched an eyebrow, before saying flatly, “Can I help you, Miss…?” 

She was going to say that he really couldn’t help her, or that Moira had told her to wait there or, well, really anything but what came out. Which was: “Oh! That’s why Moira said you would definitely be home. You’re on house arrest. Wait, why are you on house arrest? Did you pee on another cop car? Oh god.” And she put a hand over her mouth that pushed her glasses up because she couldn’t believe that she’d said that.

She squeezed her eyes shut and wished, not for the first time, to spontaneously develop Kitty Pride’s superpowers so she could literally sink through the floor, missing the small smile that curved Oliver’s lips for a brief moment. 

Her eyes flew open, however, when Moira said, “She does that fairly often. At first I thought we could probably send her to one of the finishing courses, but I’m actually starting to find it oddly entertaining. What do you think Oliver?” 

The woman was standing further away from Felicity than her son, head tilted, eyes fixed firmly on him. Oliver frowned slightly, and something about it struck Felicity as disingenuous, turning to his mom as he said, “Why would it matter what I think? Wait, did you hire me a babysitter? I promise I won’t burn the house down just because I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future.”

Moira walked forward, decisively, until she had a firm grip on Felicity’s arm and could pull her closer to Oliver. “No, of course not, don’t be silly. I’d like you to meet Felicity Smoak,” she arched an eyebrow and said pointedly, “Your soulmate.” 

Felicity didn’t think she’d ever seen someone so panicked to meet her – and she was including the blind date that Aunt Becca had told blatant lies to in order to make sure her niece had someone to take to a winter formal back in high school.

She felt like she might be sick. 

And seriously, she hadn’t actually thought she had any expectations or fairytale hopes for meeting her soulmate, but apparently she’d been wrong because some small part of her was breaking at the knowledge that she wasn’t the Victoria Secret model soulmate that he’d obviously been hoping for. Fine. Good. He wasn’t what she’d been hoping for either. That period when she was ten and didn’t know better obviously didn’t count. 

She stomped down her hurt and plastered what she was sure was an insincere smile on her face before saying, “I know, you weren’t what I expected either,” before dismissing him and turning to Moira. “It’s been lovely getting to meet you,” she was surprised to find that some part of her felt this was the truth, “but I really do have to get back to work, if you’ll excuse me?” 

Moira was frowning at her and she couldn’t say she was surprised when the older woman remarked, “Don’t be silly, Walter gave you the rest of the day off. Now why don’t you two get to know each other,” and then promptly abandoned them after giving Oliver – no, Mr. Queen a very pointed look. 

She sighed and glanced back at the door, unable not to ask, “I don’t suppose there’s actually a way out of here without Moira’s say so?” 

Mr. Queen had an eyebrow arched when she glanced back at her and just shook his head. “No. Not really. I’d take you but…” and he gestured down at his ankle monitor. 

She sighed and followed when, after another tense moment, he led her further into the house. 

Just because they were soulmates, she reminded herself, didn’t mean they had to be anything else. Plenty of people never met their soulmates, either due to distance or death and some of them managed to have perfectly happy lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, Oliver gets his say. Stay tuned.


	3. somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Oliver had been young he hadn’t really cared about his soulmate.

When Oliver had been young he hadn’t really cared about his soulmate. At first it was because girls were gross, then it was because the thought of being tied down to a single person seemed like a jail sentence. There had been some comfort there too though, since regardless of who he was with they weren’t his soulmate so they couldn’t expect forever – not really. 

He never showed anyone his soulmate’s name, ever. Even his baby pictures had a gold or silver or platinum band around his wrist.

Sometimes girls would show up and try to tell him they were his soulmate, having done something with makeup and marker to have his name on their wrists. He always laughed at them – after the brief moment of panic before they introduced themselves as Cindy or Tessa or whatever else. And then he’d sleep with them and send them on their way.

When he was eighteen he started to look every day and hope she died – hope that he never had to be chained down. (There was so much he felt guilty for, before the island, this was a constant thorn in his heart. How could he ever be so selfish to actively wish that on some poor girl who had been stuck with him?) 

But still, _Felicity Smoak_ on his wrist meant that he couldn’t ever be too serious about anyone else. 

When Laurel asked him to move in he didn’t take it seriously – even if they lived together they’d never get married, she wasn’t his soulmate. Then she’d shown him her wrist, the scar tissue that used to be a name and he was afraid for the first time. He wasn’t sure if she assumed his was dead as well or just that he wouldn’t care so long as he knew that she’d never leave him. 

So he’d left instead and taken pretty little Sara with her incomprehensible Arabic name curling over her wrist with him. 

It wasn’t until he was on the island that he started to do what he knew was normal for others – to look at the name that flowed over his wrist and daydream. 

Felicity Smoak was his touchstone. 

He didn’t know what she looked like, what she was like – he didn’t know anything about her other than the fact that if he didn’t survive she’d look down one day and not have a soulmate. 

Some days he thought that might be the kind thing to do – as his survival twisted him he started to realize that no one should be punished by having to deal with him as a soulmate – to die and let her find love somewhere else. 

But he wanted to meet her. He wanted to see if her smile was as bright as he imagined in his mind – if she was bubbly and bright or shy and sweet or fierce and angry. 

He’d never make a good soulmate – he never had, not before the island and certainly not after the island – but he wanted to meet her. 

He wasn’t expecting Walter to give him her name when he asked for a recommendation from the IT department. His heart gave a painful lurch and he was in the elevator before he’d considered the consequences. 

He grimaced and hit the button for the bottom floor, ignoring the urge to step out and see her when the doors opened on the IT floor. He didn’t have time for his soulmate and she didn’t deserve his brand of fucked up. He’d find someone else to help him. 

He wasn’t actually surprised that he ended up there a few days later, wrapped in green leather. This much he could do – by staying away from her as Oliver Queen she’d never know. (He knew she had to know what was on her wrist, and he wasn’t sure why she hadn’t approached him but he was thankful for it.)

She was…amazing. 

He smiled for the first time in what felt like years as she babbled at him. It felt like a salve on his soul and he wanted nothing more than to sink to his knees before her, rest his cheek against her stomach and let her pet him and tell him that everything would be alright. 

He’d believe it, if she told it to him. 

He had to steel himself to leave. It helped that she was afraid – if she hadn’t have jerked back than he would’ve been unable not to touch her.

He still wanted to touch her. He rubbed his thumb over his middle finger and forced himself to leave her.

He didn’t have time to be whom she deserved – he’d never be as good as she deserved and she’d fare better without him in her life. 

Maybe once his list was complete he could…it didn’t matter. That was a long time away and he had to focus. 

He traced her name again that night like he had so many times on the island. This time he could see her – imagine her real smile. 

He managed four hours without nightmares. A new personal best. 

He didn’t think about her again. 

He didn’t have the time to, honestly, and it was a relief. 

And then, having gotten himself arrested so that he could prove he wasn’t the vigilante, he came downstairs and found her waiting for him. 

He almost called her by her name before he stopped himself – it was hard to remember that he wasn’t supposed to know her, especially when it was obvious how uncomfortable she was. 

He should’ve expected it. He’d been back for over a month, she obviously knew what was on her wrist – why wouldn’t she come to see if he was the Oliver Queen that was written on her flesh. Hadn’t he wanted to meet her enough to risk it as the vigilante? 

He needed her gone. He couldn’t – he couldn’t be her soulmate, not the soulmate she deserved and he had to get rid of her before she turned those brilliant eyes to him and hated him. He’d take her fear over her hate – but the vigilante had the option, Oliver Queen didn’t. (And he’d take her hate over something happening to her, he reminded himself.) 

It was going to be hard though, because once she started talking he found himself smiling despite himself. He swallowed it down and was glad to say he was staring with what would pass for disbelief when his mother showed up. He should’ve leered after the babysitter comment – but when he saw Felicity watching him with wide blue eyes he couldn’t make himself do it. He frowned instead. 

And then he realized the situation was much worse than he thought. It wasn’t Felicity who had sought him out – Moira had found her and brought her around and while he could’ve potentially chased Felicity away he couldn’t stop his mother from meddling. 

He rubbed his thumb against his fingers and tried to steel himself for what he’d have to do. He tried to remember how he’d behaved when he’d hated his soulmate – when he’d felt like she was an anchor hovering in the background to weigh him down instead of a delightful shining woman that he’d never be good enough for. That’s who he had to be again. 

He’d been tortured before – numerous times. 

This was worse. 

There was hurt in her eyes but she was holding her chin firm and refusing to back down and god – he’d never deserve her. He cursed his mother and led Felicity into his home – carefully keeping distance between them and resisting the urge to touch her. 

He didn’t know what to say to her – and despite the fact that he knew she was prone to rambling (although she probably didn’t know that he knew that about her) she was staying decidedly quiet as she followed behind him. A look over his shoulder showed that she had her lip caught firmly between her teeth. 

He didn’t let himself look back at her again until they’d entered into the sitting room with the most comfortable chairs. 

He still had to coordinate a few things with Digg and he had a party to plan still. 

He could spare a few moments to appease his mother – and convince Felicity to stay far away from him, even if it hurt. 

Her. 

Even if it hurt _her_. 

He sprawled into his seat carelessly and gave her a lazy smile. It was slow coming back to him and it took effort – but he could do this, he could be this. 

She glanced at the seats and he arched an eyebrow and said, “So, excited about getting to be Mrs. Queen?” and then, before she could actually respond, “Of course, we’ll have to make sure it’s all legitimate, but there are tests for those sorts of things.”

She frowned at him and crossed her arms – she clearly didn’t realize what it did for her assets and he forced his glance to turn into a leer. Bright spots of color appeared high on her cheeks. He dropped his gaze again, because even that glance had cut him and he had to do this right if he was going to keep her safe. 

“No. I’m really not.” She said, with a sharp voice and his smile turned real for a moment. He fought it away a moment later and he was glad that when he glanced back at her face she was scowling over his head. 

He spread his arms across the back of the couch and smirked some more. “I’m having a party later, if you want to stick around. But you should definitely change because this,” he waved a hand at her adorable everything, “Just isn’t working.” 

She let out a sharp breath of air and then nodded to herself. “Right. I’m leaving. Please tell your mother it was wonderful to meet her.” And then she was striding out the door. 

He watched her leave before glancing over his shoulder at where Digg had entered a few minutes ago and arched an eyebrow. 

Digg looked deeply unimpressed, but he didn’t say anything, just shook his head and sat down so they could go over the plan one last time.


	4. and the dreams that you dare to dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity almost managed to escape before Thea found her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. There was a chipmunk issue. (Okay, there weren't chipmunks, but we did have a gosling hatch and I had some grumpy chinchillas, and way too much human company, which is kind of the same thing if you tilt your head to the side, squint and are slightly drunk.)

Felicity was shaking with rage – she didn’t think she’d ever been so angry in her life and she was counting the time that her roommate had spilled a natty lite on her computer with her final project on it.

Whoever put together soulmates had a sick sense of humor. She had honestly never heard of unhappy soulmates – ones who didn’t fit. And now she wondered if that was because the system was actually perfect or if people were just ashamed when they weren’t compatible with the name on their wrist and pretended to not know who they were.

It took her four tries to manage to punch in the number for a cab company correctly, only to discover that apparently due to an “incident” the company wasn’t willing to drive up to the mansion door. They told her to call back if she was at the end of the drive and hung up before she could so much as object.

Felicity stomped a foot, because she could, and started for the door.

She was positive there was someone who could drive her off this property – but trying to involve them would mean either talking to Moira or Mr. Queen again, and she didn’t relish either.

Of course she didn’t manage to escape. Her day wasn’t going in any sort of way she could characterize as good and she couldn’t even be surprised when Moira and Thea Queen emerged from one of the numerous gilt doors.

Moira stopped and considered her for a long moment, but Thea let out a noise Felicity herself was guilty of making when there was a particularly adorable puppy around and made a beeline for Felicity.

Felicity wasn’t sure what reaction to expect, but for the younger girl to throw her arms around her and practically squeeze the breathe out of her wasn’t it. She was also talking at a mile a minute, and only the fact that Felicity herself was guilty of the same sin gave her the skills to interpret what sounded like a single breath as: “You’re his soulmate! I’m so happy to meet you! Welcome to the family! You will be good to him, won’t you? And we’re going to be such good friends! I can’t wait to take you shopping!”

Felicity patted weakly at the girl’s back and tried to convey a plea for help with her eyes to Moira.

Moira absolutely saw the plea for help, but Felicity saw the moment the other woman chose to ignore it and smiled what Felicity was quickly learning was the most sincere looking insincere smile in existence. “I suppose Oliver was busy. Don’t worry, Felicity, I’m sure you and Thea can occupy yourselves until he’s done with his business.” And then Moira turned on her heel and abandoned her, again.

At least Thea was happy she was here. Unlike the last time Moira had abandoned her.

Thea rocked them both back and forth for a moment before finally releasing the hug, though she kept her hands firmly clasped on Felicity’s shoulders when she pulled back. Her grin was infectious enough that Felicity found herself grinning back despite herself.

She lost the grin fairly quickly to alarm, however, when Thea said at a more reasonable pace. “Since we’re going to wait until Ollie comes back for you, how about we sit down and learn some more about each other? I have _so_ many questions!”

Felicity really didn’t like the sound of that. But Felicity didn’t get a choice as Thea didn’t even listen to her weak protest before dragging her through an arch. The cruelest part was that Felicity could still see the front door from the couch that Thea settled them down on. It was so close.

Somehow she was sure that even though the other girl was in some quite frankly ridiculous heels that she’d still manage to catch Felicity if she made a run for it.

She didn’t see Thea do anything, but somehow within moments of them settling in there was a tray with snacks and drinks on it in front of them.

This was some Downton Abbey levels of ridiculous.

Felicity considered telling Thea the truth – that even if she was interested in Mr. Queen, he wasn’t interested in her and that she wouldn’t ever be part of the family – but one look into Thea’s hopeful eyes killed her. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to get through the explanation without crying anyways.

And as sweet as Thea seemed now, she was still a Queen and Felicity was pretty sure even the youngest one would be able to smell weakness and would pounce. So she’d be noncommittal about anything about Mr. Queen and then when she refused, later, to have anything to do with him Thea could be upset at _him_ instead of at her.

She shoved one of the little tart things into her mouth to keep from blurting any of that thought out.

Thea bounced slightly on the couch next to her before asking, “So, can I see your wrist?” and she was even more relieved that her mouth was full. The request wasn’t very similar to Mr. Queen’s comment about her mark needing to be confirmed, but it still stung.

This she could do though.

She finished chewing before wiping her hands with a napkin and undoing the cuff she was wearing. Moira hadn’t asked to see it, which was still odd to her and more than a little terrifying. Regardless, she couldn’t exactly pretend that there had been a mistake – not when she was painfully aware that Moira knew what name was on her son’s wrist.

She watched Thea’s face as the girl stared at her wrist. She didn’t want to see the name there. Not anymore.

Thea made a happy noise in her throat before letting go and Felicity reattached the cuff without looking, carefully, until the name was covered.

Thea was watching her curiously when Felicity looked back up, and she did her best to smile, though she was pretty sure it looked weak. She decided that actually speaking might be a good idea, so she asked without thinking, “What name do you have?” Her wince was obvious. Soulnames were a very private affair for most.

Apparently Thea wasn’t most. “Wallace West,” she replied promptly.

Felicity couldn’t help but make a face at the name and voiced her incredulous thoughts, “Wallace West? Wooow. That is an unfortunate name.”

Thea giggled and pulled a leg up onto the couch beside her. “Right? That’s the kind of name you give a spoiled Pomeranian!”

Felicity covered her mouth to try not to laugh, but it was inevitable. Within minutes the two women were clutching each other and giggling together.

She felt much lighter by the time she had herself back under control. They both, carefully, didn’t make eye contact, well aware that anything could still set them off. Felicity chose another tidbit from the tray but ate it in more reasonably sized bites this time.

“So, what do you do?” Thea asked, once they had both finished settling.

Felicity could say she honestly liked Thea at this point, so instead of giving the polite answer of, “I work in IT,” she actually started giving a detailed description of her job, which the other girl listened to and asked questions about. By the time that was done Felicity was relaxed enough to ask Thea about school and if she was thinking about which colleges to apply to yet. This devolved into a conversation about her own higher education and then dipped into her own home-city and family situation. She was well aware that Thea was interrogating her, but she seemed genuine in her interest, so she didn’t mind so much.

The only tense moment came when Thea asked, teasingly, “So, do you think my brother is cute?” and Felicity started choking on her sip of water.

She managed to respond, mostly diplomatically, though her tone was a little sharp, “That’s not the sort of conversation I want to have with his _sister_.”

Thea laughed at her, but changed the subject to clubs. Felicity had to bite her lip not to point out that being only seventeen the clubs Thea was talking about shouldn’t have let her in. She’d rather let the girl babble about her illegal activities than deal with talking about Mr. Queen, after all.

Thea managed to drag out of her that Felicity didn’t go to many clubs – and roll over her objections that she just didn’t like them with puppy dog eyes and the request that they could go clubbing together.

Felicity was sure it was a bad idea, but she agreed anyways.

“So, how patient _are_ you?” Thea finally asked, after dancing around asking another question for a good ten minutes.

Felicity was about to ask why it mattered when there was a commotion from the front door. She looked up and saw that a group of people had all arrived, most of them in very fashionable clothes – and very short dresses.

“Tommy!” Thea cried as she shot to her feet and ran into the entranceway, throwing herself into the arms of a tall dark haired man.

Felicity grabbed another one of the tiny crab cakes and stood up. She liked Thea, she did, but if she was right that was Thomas Merlyn, Mr. Queen’s best friend and someone she really didn’t want to run into or have to talk to.

Luckily there were enough people there that edging around the group wasn’t terribly difficult. She kept one ear open for Thea, just in case, but could hear the slightly breathy quality the girl was speaking with and well, there were worse crushes to have, Felicity could admit.

She got to the door just as another group entered and she managed to slip outside.

It had gotten dark when she’d been talking to Thea and she really wasn’t looking forward to the walk to the gate. Then a cab pulled up and a group of people piled out of it. Felicity managed to run forward and catch it before it could zip down the overly long driveway. And finally she was free.

Paying the cab at her door hurt, especially since she knew she should’ve taken it back to QC so she could get her car. But all she wanted to do was heat up some comfort food, open a bottle of red and relax with some mindless television. She’d take the bus to QC the next day to pick up her car.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing tumblr can be found right [here](http://capriciouswrites.tumblr.com/). It is mostly not Arrow stuff.
> 
> <3


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